DariaxJane
by Greg78x
Summary: Daria is having a hard time in school and goes to Jane's house for a Things don't end up like she Daria/Jane love


Uh, hi. Just a story about the relationship btwn Jane and Daria in their college years. No graphic content really. Daria Jane love story.

Daria woke up in a daze of splendor, as the first rays of sunshine hit her pallid skin. She blinked, and a slow wakefulness enveloped her body, a shock of amazement—nothing was as it should be. This wasn't her apartment, it wasn't her regular bed. The sheets were lavender, the comforter was a texture she'd never felt before, more soft and slippery than the usual course coverings she was used to.

It was sunny, but in her head things were dull and gray. There was a fuzzy haze on her perception, as she pierced through the bending glow of morning with her awkward hands, as though tearing through cobwebs that weren't there. The nearsightedness was better in the mornings, and besides the blur of outside, inside she could immediately note that the whole room was unfamiliar in a scary way. She was scared of what she had gotten herself into during a night of drunken shenanigans. She recalled the horseplay of early evening, of a few drinks, of friends she didn't know and one she did, a very good friend named Jane Lane. The party had probably gotten out of control, that's for sure. Her watch was missing from her arm, as she checked her freckles and arm hair. It must be around eight, or seven thirty in the morning. She had not slept too late, but why the strange bed? The burst of a hangover hit her like a terrible musk, confusion allied with sickness and she immediately jumped out of bed to run to the bathroom.

Vomiting felt wonderful, as it rid her of the feeling of queasiness and uneasiness she had felt ten minutes before. She staggered out of the bathroom a completely different and refreshed soul, only to realize that the tenseness of her compressing stomach and acidic fluctuations had wiped her mind of the night before.

The night before, the night before…My god, she thought to herself, I was at Jane's. I'm sure we never left the house. It was a huge party, as usual I couldn't stop drinking once I started. Sober in daylight I'm a puritan ice queen, reading, studious, serious, but get one drink in me and my consciousness tips over and I become the party girl. Obviously she wasn't worried about any lasting ill effects, but the sense of emptiness was different from her other wayward alcoholic experiences. A few glasses of wine, I had a few glasses of wine and suddenly I was lost. It's like I wasn't me anymore, but a stranger.

She extended her arms to stare at their paleness, same skin tone and color, she hadn't turned green. Still the same old Daria. But not Daria. Somehow not Daria. There was an uneasiness still in the back of her mind locked away in some vault repressed by drunkenness and blackout unconsciousness.

Jane's, Jane's, I walked over to Jane's. The test, I had finished that test. Should be an 'A', keep the honors. Felt good after the test, walked over to Jane's, to celebrate, huge kegger and wine art party. All the art students at Jane's house having a Friday night party…I remember everyone being in a great mood, fun times. Jane was happy to see me, classic Jane. She always has an hour or two for high school reminiscences and a certain high school friend. We were being chums, and the rest of the girls, and there were guys, were just insane. Kegger stands, lots of talk about art and painting, kinds of paint. I like mauve, I like turtle-green. Ha, Jane's friends were so weird, always going on about art class and postmodern theory and Goya and Picasso. In a way she felt more at home with Jane's friends than any of her classmates, they were open to any wary thoughts Daria might be withholding from lectures or writing peers. The writing students were all about trying to one up each other, but Jane and her friends were all about doing good work and making each other better, they were interested in each other's theories and seriously wanted to know how the other person had come to the conclusions they had. They were smart, wonderful people. In a way, Daria was sad she wasn't in the art program. It was probably a blast. But she knew that her own path and talents lay one way and Jane's another—Jane.

My god, she thought, Jane, she had been really close with Daria that night. More chummy even than usual, more than the usual hijinks. She couldn't help but remember just how close Jane had been to her that night, and always in reverie and feeding her more drinks, she had turned in some midterm painting and had obviously felt great about it, slopping one glass of wine after another.

Daria sat down on the bed, the big purple swishy bed with the lavender covers that was smooth like a baby's skin. She felt the covers with her hands, feeling the fibers bend under her soft fingers, the sensation was wonderful. Someone likes luxury, apparently. God, she was so drunk, she'd really let that stuff get to her head this time. An oncoming headache was apparent. This dark room early in the morning, and she had no idea where she was.

Jane.

She thought about Jane for perhaps the first time that morning, since she had been sidetracked by the hazy result of being stoned drunk. A lady shouldn't act like I acted last night, she thought. A few drinks and that should be it. But oh well, she thought, no time like the present to live a little, just that once.

Jane. Where was Jane? This dark room, was it Jane's? It couldn't be. And yet she had made no sleeping arrangements since she meant to go home around midnight when these crazy college parties usually end. Whose room was it? Coffee, coffee sounded hot and wonderful. It was a crisp October day outside and one of the windows was cracked open, enough to let in the early morning fall creep onto her back and into her bones. She shivered and rubbed her hands on her arms. This old drafty house sure didn't retain heat very well.

At that moment the door opened, creaking ajar in that silent top floor of the house that was truly isolated from the insanity of the main floor downstairs. It was Jane in slippers and pajamas hanging around her arms, she was holding two cups of something hot with wisps of condensation slipping off the tops.

"Hey there spoilsport! The party sure wasn't any fun without you when you went to bed early."

Daria looked around for her glasses and placed the cold frames around her face, seeing Jane now along with the room in absolute clarity. It was clearly Jane's room, all the knickknacks pointed Jane. For the first time she noticed she was in pajamas too, lavender ones. "You sure like purple, huh?" Daria said as Jane was setting the steaming coffee mugs on the table on the other side of the bed. "It's mauve, Daria, or at least half of it is mauve. We artists have a sense of color, something the writing crowd would never understand." "Sure," choked Daria, as she looked warmly at the coffee on the table and waited for her friend to extend one of the mugs to her.

"I see I'm in your room, Jane," said Daria, with a conspicuous knowing wit. "I see that too, you little drunky," replied Jane. "How did I get here, I remember us all downstairs drinking glasses of wine and maybe beer, but I think I blacked out long before it was even ten." "Oh, you just blacked out Daria, that's all. You really have to watch yourself, I wouldn't want to see what would happen if you were just left to your own devices at some pub, you might never make it out of the back of some guy's chevy."

Daria looked down at her knees, as they were shaking, the room was cold with that damn window open, even despite lengthy cotton pajama pants. "Hey, coffee?"

"Oh, sorry! You know I got some just for you and completely forgot! Wrapped up in discussion about your drunken blackouts and all." She handed her the warm mug which wasn't so hot it burnt her hand but almost. Daria winced and immediately grabbed the mug by the handle. "Grab hot things by the handle, Daria, didn't your mother teach you that?"

Daria drank from the hot coffee, with a little bit of cream, the way she knew Jane knew she liked it. She looked around the room, noticing all the Janey things in the Jane room, the tiny little things up on shelves that were little artists' trinkets and toys. The easel was stuffed up in a corner and indistinguishable from a lot of other plys of wood and canvas. The two drank in silence, with Jane always being attentive to her friend, and never letting her eyes stray from Daria's face.

"So just what did happen to me last night? We didn't sleep together did we?" At this Jane's face blushed into a furious rouge, "Slept together!? Yes! We did! Of course we did! You woke me up when you went to the bathroom, haha," she looked deep into her mug again.

"Okay, that's okay I guess. I must have been pretty smashed, I'm real sorry about taking your bed, it must be annoying. I'll have to watch myself in the future."

"Daria, you really were hammered. Were you throwing up in the bathroom? I've never seen you let go like you did last night! You were in one bottle then another, I was afraid you were going to abuse the liquor cabinet!"

"Oh! I'm sorry! I guess I was just having a really good time and got carried away. I can't believe I was so wasted and stayed here over night."

"Daria…you weren't just drunk."

"What? What do you mean? You mean I was rude, too?"

"Well yes Daria, but we all know how cloistered you are, we thought it was funny. Rude, hey, we're all rude when we're wasted. But…"

"But?" Daria's face began to grow red now, Jane's tone of voice implied something awful. Shock began to creep in and that uneasiness that had been in the back of her mind was storming through her lobes and bringing a dark cloud over her mind. Jane paused and looked back into her mug, it seemed really serious.

Daria's face turned white, and her eyes enlarged into bright brown orbs, "I didn't hurt anyone, did I?" she asked with a tremor. "Did I embarrass you? I'm really sorry Jane, I swear it was a one-time thing!"

Jane looked up at Daria, with a serious look on her face, like she was about to tell Daria about a death in her family, "You didn't hurt anyone Daria, how could you hurt anyone? You're a book nerd."

"So?"

"And I want you to know you didn't embarrass me Daria, you could never embarrass me, you're my best friend. Don't be so self conscious!"

"Well then what, damnit! What happened that's such a big deal! Tell me!"

"Uh-huh, well Daria, you were all over me."

Daria took a big gulp of acidic coffee and leftover stomach acids, yet somehow her tongue was dry.

"I what?"

"You were all over me Daria! You couldn't keep your hands off me! You were clinging to me all night! You were so drunk you were holding my hand and stuff. Everywhere in the party, you were really off your nut, hanging on me every moment. You were really close. At one point you even tried to kiss me!"

Daria was stunned, she couldn't believe what her friend was telling her. "On you? I was on you? I was too drunk, I knew it, I'm so ashamed." Daria felt like she was going to vomit again. Everyone in the house might have seen her acting like a strange little kid and it would be hard for her ever to show her face there again.

"Well Daria, it was an art students' party, they're used to, well, you know, girls who like girls and stuff, it's fairly common in this part of the school. But you were hugging me, more than a few people asked if you were my girlfriend. Frankly it was a side of you even I've never seen before."

Daria was confused. She was acting like she and Jane were together? She had dated Tom and been close to only men in her life. It was hard for her to believe Jane was being serious, and yet Jane didn't ever joke about serious stuff like this. "You mean, I was like trying to kiss you all night?"

"No Daria, but you did try to kiss me. I think you must be lonely, I know you've been working your little butt off in your classes and trying to get honors so you can transfer to an Ivy League, it must be hard doing that all on your own. I think you miss being among friends and friendly people. We all support you, I, well I support you Daria, I want you to succeed. I don't think you give enough credit to break time. If you're ever sad or tired you know Aunty Jane's always here to cry on."

"I'm not a desperate weirdo! The Ivy League thing isn't for certain, anyways…"

"Listen Daria, I don't think anything negative about you, no one here does, I just think you've been looking for a shoulder to cry on, someone to carry the load a little bit. I appreciate that it can be me. And I wasn't embarrassed."

Daria was now placated somewhat and drifting off into the reflection of the coffee in her mug. It was lukewarm now. It seemed like it had been hot just a moment ago. Her mind wandered. Was she overstressed? Did she act out at Jane's house because of all the work she had been putting into her classes? Maybe she was being hard on herself.

Jane unbeknownst to the ghost-like Daria, drifted over to her friend and sat on the bed next to her, putting her arm around her shoulder and her chin to the side of her face. Daria closed her eyes in her confusing, nauseating stupor and enjoyed the company of her warm friend. She felt secure, she felt like she could be honest. She almost began to cry.

The two very good friends stayed clinging together for a good while, Daria almost falling asleep again after the very strange night she had apparently had.

"I'm sorry Jane." "Oh hush Daria, you put the world on your shoulders too often and the weight finally broke you, it's nothing to be ashamed of."

They clung to each other in a soft tenderness as early morning progressed into mid morning.

"Daria, there's something I have to tell you." "Yes, Jane?"

"When I said you and I slept together, there was a…little more to that."

Daria opened her eyes, and suddenly the storm clouds came rushing back. "What?"

"Well, Daria, you see, you were really, really drunk. You were really, truthfully, hanging all over me, you couldn't be separated. And you know everyone in this house is really cool. And I understand the pressure it must be to read all those books and, you know me, I just paint the days away, so what would I know…"

"Jane, be honest with me. Did we sleep sleep together?"

Still holding Daria in the same comforting embrace of before, Jane let the words slip out of her mouth stolidly, "Yes."

Daria immediately got up from Jane and walked over to the wall to stare at the artsy ornaments on the shelves of the blue morning room. The cool shady light let Daria feel isolated. This was really weird, she thought, never in my life has anything this strange ever happened to me.

Jane sat on the bed and looked off through the window to the tree that was now not so licked with spots of sunlight but beginning to show the average reflections of her usual class painting hour. Saturdays, she thought, so melancholy, yet so exciting. She didn't have much to do that day, maybe work on touching up a few things for future projects and nascent ideas. It was just her and Daria facing down the realities of what they had both probably known for a long time. Ever since they had first met she had had an inkling that there was some deeper connection between the two, some intractable connection that was innate, like they were friends from another life. She felt that she and Daria fit together as neatly as a puzzle, and their special fit was something that was going to last the length of her life indefinitely.

She looked back to her friend, the mousy little nerd girl with her flowing mane of wispy brown hair, her strong back line, those architectural glasses frames that hung to the side of her face like the presidents to that mountain somewhere in South Dakota. Or was it North Dakota? Well, they're both Dakotas, might as well count, she thought.

"Hey Daria, what's the mountain with the president's faces on it?" She said matter of factly.

Daria kept staring at the ornaments, lost in her own personal drowning. She stuttered out of it long enough to mention, "Mount Mckinley."

Jane wiggled her nose. "Hmph, no, actually I think it's Mount Rushmore, nerd girl." She smiled wide and deep. Daria looked back at Jane out of the corner of her eye and saw the smile. Daria was able at last to turn her body away from the black hole that was her area of mortification. She trudged back to Jane with a half knowing smirk, fell to her knees in front of her friend, the carpet cushioning her sloppy fall as she embraced Jane's waist, reaching her arms around her the small of her back and lying her head between her thigh and midsection.

Jane hugged Daria back, loving the warm sensation of her friend cuddling her like a little bowing Buddha. She slid her hands over that magnificent bushy brown hair. She had always liked Daria's hair so much, it was one of her favorite characteristics of her friend. It was like the truth and brain on Daria, giant and obstreperous.

Daria smiled into her friend. "Jane?" She asked muffled by the mauve pajamas, in a sensation like child to mother, lost in a sea of nostalgia and comfort only those who truly love can ever understand. "I want you to tell me one more thing."

"And what's that, Daria?" Jane said looking down into Daria's wondrous oak strand top, smiling serenely.

"Was it, good? I don't remember anything from last night. I remember getting sick in the bathroom but I don't remember anything that happened last night. Did we really…sleep together? Did we…"

Daria blushed in the arms of her friend, "Did we really, make…love?"

Jane was sweeping her fingers through Daria's hair, still smiling at her friend's innocent state. "Yes Daria."

Daria gulped. "Did you like it?"

Jane hugged a little tighter. "Yes Daria."

Daria got ready for the last question she was going to ask, lost in a dream state that had lost all touch with reality. Almost looking up at Jane's face but instead looking out that golden rimmed window, she asked, "And…do you love me?"

Daria's stuttering question had finally got the best of Jane. Tears began to flow from Jane's eyes. She knew how hard it was for her friend, and how much she had probably always loved her but never cared to speak of it, or really even known about it for that matter. They were just made for each other, that was all. Two pieces of a puzzle, arranged by some gods or fate, sisters from another mother but even much more than that. Trent was never the kind of brother who could receive all of Jane's wisdom, but Daria was something she might be able to put all her love in to forever.

"Yes Daria, God yes."

The two hugged each other for a long time. Mid morning was fast approaching and soon would come noon, and what then?


End file.
